9. Jesse
9
JESSE
T he morning that I woke up at Mark’s house, I forgot that I wasn’t at home.
That wouldn’t normally be a huge issue, except that I was bleary from my lack of sleep, and it was still pitch black, and I didn’t think to turn on a lamp. I just swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stood up, and immediately walked into a wall.
Things only went downhill from there.
My car was being recalcitrant and took forever to start, making me fifteen minutes late by the time I arrived at the cafe. Not that it was open, or that there was anyone to notice I was late, but it meant I was behind schedule for the morning baking.
I hurried into the kitchen to get things started and I was in such a rush that I didn’t realize we were out of blueberries for the scones I was making until it was time to add them in. I improvised, tossing in cranberries and orange zest instead, and crossed my fingers that people would accept the menu deviation without too much complaint.
I made a mental note to change the label and promptly forgot when I discovered that the cash register hadn’t been counted out properly the night before. I checked the schedule on the wall behind the espresso machine—Harris had closed. Of course. I wouldn’t trust that guy to tie his own shoes.
It was just one thing after another, and right when Brooklyn arrived, and I finally had a moment to breathe, my sister, Jenna, called to tell me that my mother had fallen last night and was in a hospital in Miami, having tests done.
Everything in me panicked. Even though Jenna had moved home to take over as my mom’s primary caretaker, I still worried about her every day.
Jenna insisted that everything was fine for now and that she’d let me know as soon as she had more information, but I was a nervous wreck until she finally called back at two that afternoon. She said that my mom was fine and even put her on the phone, which did make me feel a little better, but also made me miss them both even more than usual.
By the time I hung up, I was drained. Brooklyn took one look at me and shook his head as I walked back toward the register to take another order.
“Nope,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t even think about it. I’m cutting you. Go home, get some sleep, and take it easy.”
“Brooklyn, everything’s fine now. I just talked to my mom herself. She’s alright. There’s no reason I can’t stay here and finish out the rest of my shift.”
“Except that you look like a zombie and are probably going to scare half our customers away. Plus, there’s no way your roommates are going to be partying now. If there’s any justice in the world, they’ll all still be asleep or hungover. Go home and take a nap.”
I was too tired to protest, and the prospect of a nap sounded so good that I just hung up my apron, punched out, and waved blearily to Brooklyn as I walked out the door—
And straight into Mark.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, blinking up at him. I realized my hands were on his chest and I pulled them away like they burned. It would be just like me to be so tired that I forgot he didn’t like me and tried to make out with him.
“I was coming to see you,” Mark said, cocking his head to the side. “You left your wallet. It must have fallen out of your pocket when you took your pants off.”
“I’m sorry, did he just say something about you taking your pants—” Brooklyn called from the far side of the counter, but Mark hurried on before he could finish.
“I mean, not that I—I just thought I’d bring it back to you, is all. I thought you were supposed to work till three. Did you get off early?”
“Or did you get off last night, when you took your pants—” Brooklyn began again, and I shoved Mark back out to the sidewalk, letting the door swing shut behind us. I was pretty sure Mark knew Brooklyn was just joking, but still.
“I—yeah, I was supposed to, but—it’s—” I shook my head to clear my thoughts and tried again. “It’s been a day, let’s just put it that way. I was heading home to take a nap. Thank you for bringing my wallet by, though. I didn’t even realize it was missing, which is kinda scary.”
“I can walk with you, if you want,” Mark said, holding my wallet out to me.
I was too tired to puzzle over whether that offer was weird, so I just took my wallet and nodded. We set out towards my house in silence.
“If you just wanna crash and not talk about it,” Mark said after a moment, “that’s fine, but is everything alright?”
I opened my mouth to assure him that it was—and somehow found myself unloading everything onto him instead. It came out as a garbled, disorganized mess, my complaints about the blueberries mixed up with those about Harris and my roommates and life in general. I’d just mentioned my mother’s fall when Mark stopped me.
“Wait, what? Is your mom okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him in surprise as we walked by one of the huge old buildings on Chatham’s campus. “She’s fine. It was a little scary for a minute, but I talked to her a while ago, and she sounds good. She should be home from the hospital by the end of the day.”
“That’s a relief,” Mark said. “It must be hard for you, being so far away from her.”
“Sometimes.” My lips twisted. “I kinda go back and forth. I love her and obviously would drop everything in a heartbeat if she needed me. But sometimes it’s a relief not to be the person being leaned on all the time. I don’t know—does that make me a bad person?”
“Not at all,” Mark said. He was doing that sad smile thing again. “That’s a lot to ask of someone, even if they are a family member. It’s hard, carrying someone else’s burdens. I’d never want to put that on someone.”
“I don’t think of her as a burden,” I said sharply. “Really. She’s my mom, and I know she’d do the same for me. I guess I just meant…I don’t know. Sometimes I think I would prefer to be down there with her. Because the longer I stay up here, the more I feel like I’m going to let her down. I think she might be more excited about my bed and breakfast fantasy than I am. She’s convinced that this is my chance to finally ‘ make it ’ or whatever. I don’t feel like I can break it to her that I might not.”
“She’s your mom. I’m sure she’ll be proud of you no matter what.”
“Ha. Spoken like an adored, favorite child, I’ll bet.”
Mark shrugged, then looked away before answering. “I don’t know if adored is quite the right word. And I’m an only child, so it’s not like I have any competition. But my parents tried for such a long time to get pregnant, and sometimes I feel like they like the idea of me more than they like who I really am.”
“What? That’s crazy. You’re like, the world’s most perfect child. Smart, handsome, funny. You’re in the Army for God’s sake. You’re a golden boy.”
“I guess.” Mark shoved his hands in his pockets. “But sometimes I wonder how much of my life I’ve spent trying to do what was expected of me, versus what would make me happy. I don’t know that I really wanted to join the Army, but I knew it would make my dad proud for me to follow in his footsteps. I didn’t particularly like my job back in Chicago either, but my mom’s friend offered it to me and I felt like I couldn’t say no. I know my parents love me and all, but I’m not sure they always like the mess that comes with loving a real, flawed human being.”
“If that’s true, your parents are dummies,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Sorry, not to speak ill of your family, but that’s seriously insane. You're not a mess, you’re awesome. And if they don’t see that, then they’re—bulldog!”
“What?”
Mark looked at me like I was nuts. I couldn’t blame him. That wasn’t how I’d expected to end that sentence either, but I’d caught sight of a girl walking a particularly wrinkly English bulldog down the sidewalk towards us, and I hadn’t been able to contain myself.
“Look!” I pointed. “How can you not think that that is the cutest dog alive?”
“Because I have eyes?” Mark said, rolling them as if to prove his point. “His face looks like it’s been stepped on.”
“Hush, you,” I said, as the dog and his owner approached. “Don’t let him hear you. You’ll ruin his self-esteem.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Mark said, as I crouched down to pet the dog.
“I hope you’re talking to me,” I said, glancing up at him, “and not this most perfect creature right here.” I turned to address the dog. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re beautiful, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you different.”
The girl walking the dog was nice enough to let me pet him for a few minutes, but there comes a point where you have to stop, or you become that weird guy who obsesses too much over other people’s pets. Still, I couldn’t help looking wistfully after them as they walked away. Well, she walked. The dog waddled. Cutely.
“When’s your birthday?” Mark asked with a grin. “I feel like I want to get you a litter of bulldog puppies just to see what would happen. I think you might explode.”
“Please do.” I nodded vigorously, feeling considerably more awake than I had just minutes ago. I pulled on his arm for emphasis. “Glitter would come flying out of my body. That, or I’d just melt into a puddle of happiness.”
“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Mark said.
“Well, look at you two lovebirds,” said a voice behind us. I turned, my heart sinking, to see Tanner standing on the sidewalk, staring at us.
He was wearing a peacoat, despite the fact that nothing about the day’s heat called for it, and carrying a briefcase, every inch the Chatham professor. He looked at us with—what was it? Ah, right: condescension. A look I’d seen a thousand times from him over the course of our relationship, but had only recently recognized for what it truly was.
“See, I knew you’d find someone, Jesse,” Tanner continued, his smile patronizing. “There was no need to get so upset when we broke things off. It’s been, what, two months? And you’ve already moved on. Kind of puts your histrionics in perspective, doesn’t it?”
“What? No, Tanner, Mark is—” My brain was just catching up to what Tanner was saying, but, as usual, he wasn’t letting me get a word in edgewise. I glanced at Mark, who looked confused, and then back at Tanner, who was already launching into another soliloquy, clearly enjoying holding court.
“I know you have a bit of a tendency to overreact to things,” he went on, “and I’ll admit, I found that charming about you. But I’m sure you see now that there was no reason for all that.” He turned to Mark, who was beginning to turn red in the face, and added, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that too, of course. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. And it does lend a certain, shall we say, passion, to the relationship? But you must already know that.”
“No, Tanner,” I tried again, painfully aware of how embarrassed Mark was next to me. “We’re not—”
“I just hope that this means you’ve finally moved past your senseless anger, Jesse, and that you’re able to stop holding onto something that just isn’t there anymore. Who knows, perhaps we can even be friends, someday. After all, as queer men, we need to stick together.”
“Tanner, we’re not dating!” My voice was louder than I’d intended, but I didn’t care. “Mark and I are just friends. He’s not even—look, it doesn’t matter. The point is, we’re not together. And also, we have to go.”
“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you,” Tanner said, arching an eyebrow in Mark’s direction. He looked back at me and smiled, but something about it felt malicious. “The offered olive branch still stands, however. I really do think you would like Quentin, Jesse. You have so much in common.”
“I’m sure,” I said, trying to keep the pulsing knot of emotions I felt out of my voice. “See you around, Tanner.”
I turned on my heel and walked away, hoping Mark would follow me, but not willing to look back and see if he did. I wasn’t going to give Tanner the satisfaction of thinking I might be looking back at him.
“Jess, wait up!” Mark called when I was halfway down the block. I slowed my pace just enough to let him catch up, then picked it up again as he pulled even with me. I was too riled up to slow down for real.
“Sorry about that,” I said bitterly. “Tanner’s an asshole, but I didn’t expect him to be such a dick to someone he didn’t even know. He’s a TV host. I know he knows how to make people comfortable. He probably just wanted to embarrass you—and by extension, me. I swear I didn’t tell him we were dating or anything.”
“Embarrass me?” Mark gave me a strange look. “I wasn’t embarrassed.”
“Your face was the color of a fire truck.”
“Jess, I wasn’t embarrassed, I was angry.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he was an asshole. You said it yourself.” Mark flexed his fingers in and out of fists a few times. “I think he was actually jealous, and trying to make me uncomfortable by flaunting his history with you. But frankly, fuck that. I hope he is jealous, and that he realizes how great you are and how dumb he was to lose you. You should have just told him we were together to see how he reacted.”
“Oh,” I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “Well, thanks, I guess.”
Just then, my phone rang. I looked at Mark in panic.
“Get it,” he said. “It could be your mom again.”
But it wasn’t. It was Cam Starling, from the Sea Glass Inn. I brought the phone to my ear with a shaky hand, my heart in my throat. Was he calling to tell me the sale had gone through? I’d been hoping, since I hadn’t heard anything final, that maybe it hadn’t. But today was already the day from hell—getting more bad news would just be par for the course.
“So?” Mark said, his eyes searching my face when I hung up a few minutes later. “Is everything okay? You sounded surprised, whoever you were talking to. Is your mom alright?”
“That wasn’t her,” I answered absently, staring at the phone in my hand. Had that really just happened? “It was the bed and breakfast owner. Out on Summersea Island. He’s not taking that other offer. He said something about shady contracts and financing and—honestly, I didn’t really understand it. But he’s not selling to them.”
“That’s amazing!” Mark reached out and took my shoulder, shaking me slightly. “Hello? Earth to Jesse? That’s good news, right?”
“I think so.” I blinked and looked up. “He asked if I could come out there this weekend to talk things over. See if we could find a way to make this happen. He was kind of vague about that, though. I wonder what he meant.”
“Who cares what he meant! That’s not just good news, it’s great news. Obviously, you’re going.”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head in wonder. “Yeah, I guess I am. It does mean I’ll have to miss our Saturday run, though, unless…”
I trailed off. That was a stupid idea. There was no way Mark would say yes, and even if he would, I couldn’t ask without seeming creepy.
“Unless what? What were you going to say?”
“It’s dumb.” It was dumb. But happiness and disbelief were bubbling in my chest, making me want to throw caution to the winds. Fuck it. I’d say it anyway. “I was going to say, unless you wanted to come with me.”
Mark blinked, and I felt those bubbles start to pop. Why the hell had I said that? He was never going to say yes.
Well, at least I still had the visit to look forward to. If that other offer really had fallen through—
“Yeah,” Mark said, pulling me back to reality. “Why not? That sounds fun.”
“Wait, seriously? You want to come to Summersea with me this weekend? Are you sure? It won’t mess up any of your plans, or put a wrench in things with Gigi?”
“Gigi will be thrilled,” Mark said. “And she’s always on my case about how I have no plans, and to be honest, she’s right. So there’s nothing to mess up.” He grinned. “It’ll be like a mini-vacation. I’ll see if I can dig up some of my old road-trip playlists.
“Okay,” I said, trying to make sense of what had just happened. In the space of five minutes, this day had completely turned around. “Okay, yeah. Awesome. That sounds great.”
Not only was Mark not weirded out by Tanner’s creepy insinuations, he was volunteering to spend a weekend with me. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve this, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse, or gift road trip, in the mouth. I was just going to be happy about it—happier than I’d been about anything in a long, long time.